The Hunter(remaster)
by Chimera's Soul
Summary: Once upon a time a soldier loved an angel. Then the soldier fell from grace, and fearful he would drag his lover down with him, went down to hell alone to kill the demons that slithered and slunk before her door, never to see her again. Once upon a time an angel loved an angel, but he left heaven without saying goodbye, and now her tears water the ground at his feet.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: IM BAAAACK. Ok so this prologue is canon but it's more to give yall an example of the new style I'll be pursuing, lemme know what you think. Peace out girlscouts.**

Prologue

"This terrible rage within me bears your name"

The hunter stalked forward with a menacing gait, the red glow of his visor backlighting the carnage in the grimy alley way, corpses strewn around like the garbage littering the city, blood painting the stained bricks like graffiti. The coward backing away from him wouldn't be spared, no one like him would. Silently, Soldier 76 dropped a new clip in his rifle and stowed it on his back, at the same time unholstering his Stryder pistol.

"I- I swear man," The thug said, scrambling backwards on his hands, "I don't know anything!"

Soldier raised the gun and put a hole in his throat with a single shot.

"I believe you." He said, the visor distorting his voice into a demon's growl, "I'm not here for information. The bloodloss won't kill you by the way, but the suffocation will."

The fear in the gangster's eyes was all the satisfaction Soldier 76 needed. He turned on his heel to leave, pistol already holstered when he and his recent handiwork were illuminated by the harsh white glow of a spotlight.

"Soldier 76, do not move." a male voice rang out over the roar of a stealth helicopter marked with the insignia of the local national guard in a deep baritone, likely around his own biological age."We have you surrounded. Come quietly, and you will not be harmed."

The vigilante only heard the last part of the sentence from the other side of the fence he hopped immediately upon the light settling on him, his enhanced muscles carrying him away from the scene at the speed of an olympian. The helicopter kept its spotlight on him even as he suddenly slammed himself through a window and started rapidly climbing the stairs of an abandoned apartment complex, whoever was piloting the damn thing was good. Soon he was on the roof, with the helicopter circling to a stop above his head.

"Soldier 76" The voice boomed above the roaring blades, "This is your final warning. Do not attempt escape. If you do, we will be forced to open fire."

Under his visor, Jack Morrison smiled wryly at the thought of these weekend warriors taking him in, but it was quickly wiped off his face. He needed a way out, and he needed it now. As the ropes dropped from the helicopter, his visor flashed a possible route at him. 76 frowned. No other options. This was going to hurt. As the first soldier hit the ground, the vigilante surged forward and tackled him to the ground, slamming his elbow into his solar plexus before rolling off and sprinting to the edge. Before he had time to think, he leapt off the top of a 15 story apartment complex.

############################################################################

Across the world, in a small private graveyard in Zurich, another person was leaping off their own ledge. Angela Ziegler stood in front of a grave, a simple headstone marked with the symbol of a dead organization, just like the rest in the field. This was the grave of Jack Morrison, the real one. The monument downtown was for the public to remember their hero, this small headstone was for his team to mourn their friend. In all the time that had passed since overwatch was destroyed, she had never managed to force herself to go here. She'd been to the monument many times, but the fact that this grave existed made that one feel less real, less personal. Now, standing in front of this simple headstone, it felt all too real.

"Jack," She said quietly, forcing herself to speak, "what happened to you? I've used every contact I can think of, but no one has any answers for what happened that day. I miss you."

She couldn't. Not yet. Turning and furiously wiping her eyes, she walked away from the grave of her friend. As she got in the car and retrieved her phone from the cup holder, she saw a missed call with a blocked id. No one she didn't know had this number. Frowning, she hit redial and held the phone to her ear. It only managed to ring once before her ears were assaulted by a frantic english accent.

"ANGELA ITS BEEN SO LONG HOLD ON HOLD ON WINSTON WANTS TO TALK HERE YA GO!"

Angela smiled in spite of herself. Lena always had a way of making her smile. The smile only grew as Winston suddenly spoke through the phone.

"Angela, its been awhile. How are you?"

She laughed, "Winston we're friends, I've known you since you landed here from Horizon. No need to be so formal."

An awkward pause.

"Actually Angela, I'm afraid there is. As good as it is to talk to you again, our friendship isnt why I called."

The doctor frowned as she pulled out onto the street.

"Oh? Then what do you need winston? Are you healthy?"

Winston laughed over the phone.

"Yes Doctor, and Ive been eating right too." Winston paused again. "Angela, there's no way to work around this gently. I've recalled overwatch."

Angela's foot slammed on the break in front of a stop sign, causing several cars behind her to honk.

"YOU WHAT?" she hissed, her voice stern, "Winston, that will make you a fugitive!"

"I know Angela. And as selfish as it is, I need your help. Most of the new, 'ahem', initiates are green as grass, and training for a team like this is bound to cause some injuries. I swear you don't have to get involved in combat if you don't want to."

Angela frowned,

"Damn you Winston. You knew I couldn't say no if you phrased it like that didn't you."

A guilty chuckle confirmed it.

"Afraid so. Your plane leaves tomorrow at 7. Get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon.

############################################################################

Slumped in a dark apartment, a wounded soldier pressed the heated barrell of a plasma rifle to his wound, biting down on his belt to stifle his scream

############################################################################

In a small apartment in zurich, A doctor prepared to embark on a path she thought she had long since left behind.

############################################################################

In a dark command center in Gibraltar, a scientist watched in outrage as news coverage of the newly dubbed Slum Massacre. Whoever this 76 character was, he had to be stopped.

############################################################################

In front of a single station in an undisclosed location, a pair of black clad fists clenched on the desk. Soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: OK, so IN FRICKEN ORDER, lets go through whats been going on with me. 1: dropped out of college. 2: started training to become a professional boxer. 3: got a new job with more money and longer hours. 4: won my first fight(feel free to applaud). BUT BABY IM BACK. so this is a short chapter, but I think yall will like it. PEACE OUT GIRLSCOUTS.**

A Study in Shadows

Angela stood watching the young new team train from one way glass beside her long time friend, the frown on her face never quite leaving. In the few months following Winston's call, the team of novices and ex soldiers had become gifted warriors, but something nagged at the back of her mind. They were _just_ warriors. They never drilled rescue operations or evacuations, only combat maneuvers. Day in and day out they honed their gifts for violence, training to eliminate threats completely and leave as little a mark as possible, then disappear into the night like a pack of wolves.

"You've certainly created a gifted group of hitmen Winston," She couldn't quite hide the acid in her voice. This wasn't what she'd been promised. "Whose your first mark?"

The scientist sighed.

"Angela you have to understand, we aren't living in the world of the old overwatch. We're fugitives, we aren't welcome at rescue sites or train wrecks. We have to avoid capture and deal with the threats we can deal with if we are going to have any impact. That means we have to go after dangerous people, or would you rather I tell Genji to try negotiating with the Shimada clan?"

Angela glared out the window.

"Then what are you going to do, just eliminate anyone you deem to be a threat? I won't be party to a second Blackwatch."

"Of course not! We're going after dangerous criminals already on the international wanted list. The first target is that psychopath vigilante tearing through the poor sectors in Dorado, soldier 76."

Angela's eyes widened. She'd heard of him on the news. A mass murdering globe trotter with access to advanced weaponry, he had recently been on the news brutally slaughtering gang members in Dorado, leaving thousands in property damage and collateral behind, though reportedly there was not a single civilian casualty on his record. Now it was her turn to sigh.

"And you promise me to withhold deadly force when at all possible?" She asked, already knowing the answer. He may not hold her ideals, but Winston was a good person.

"Of course Angela. We are not killers, we're heroes." He said, watching her intently.

"Then," She said, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, "You'll be needing a combat medic if your going up against such a dangerous opponent."

#########################################################################################################

 _3 days later_

Stepping over the corpses of the other gang members, Soldier 76 slammed the butt of his gun into his downed target's ankle, shattering the bone and ensuring he wouldn't be able to run. The kid screamed, and Jack belatedly wondered how old the kid was. Couldn't be over 17. He knelt down and placed his knee on the gang member's chest to keep him still, his red visor lighting up the criminal's bloodstained face as he leaned close.

"I'm going to ask this once, then I'm going to start breaking things. Where are the Muertos moving next?"

"I don't know man I swear Please I have a sist-AAAARGH"

Soldier reached over with one hand and casually crushed his wrist beyond reconstruction.

"The cashier you and your buddies just shot up had family too. Didn't stop you. Now tell me what I want to know." He growled, the rage bubbling to the surface. He fought it down. Now wasn't the time.

"I- Wait wait I know something!" Soldier's impassive visor stared down at him. "The Guys were talking about something big going down near the Vishkar site on the north end."

Jack thought about it. It made sense, locals around these areas avoided Vishkar like the plague, and the site's security would be watching for intruders, not loiterers at any of the large warehouses in the area. Jack stood and leveled his gun at the young Muertos member. He hadn't earned his bones yet, which meant he hadn't killed for them. Frowning, he grabbed the pistol the kid had been carrying and popped out the magazine. Full 16, one in the chamber. The kid hadn't fired a shot.

"There's a hospital five blocks from here. You'll get popped on your record immediately, but if you hurry you might be able to walk without a cane one day." The vigilante paused. "If I ever see you running with the Muertos again, you'll end up a stain on the pavement kid."

And with that, Soldier 76 disappeared into the dark recesses of a broken down apartment building and started heading toward north end.

##########################################################################################################

Mercy and Winston stood on the rooftop of a warehouse in Dorado's infamous North end, known by the locals as the Vishkar Occupied Zone. It was a beautiful area, Vishkar hard light buildings and streets twisting into beautiful and impossible shapes and casting their trademark blue white glow down on the streets. However, in mercy's mind it was just a cruel display of beauty amidst the poverty of the rest of the north end.

"How do we even know 76 will show up here Winston?"

One of the new recruits, a young Brazilian musician by the name of Lucio, piped up.

"Our intel, or rather the intel we, ahem, _borrowed_ from the United Nations database, points towards this being a prime target for the Los Muertos gang sooner rather than later, and soldier 76 has been hunting them down relentlessly," Winston explained calmly, his natural leadership and intellect showing through, "Therefore, we can reasonably assume that the vigilante will be here sooner rather than later as well."

############################################################################

 _4 hours later, 4:05 am._

"Winston, we gotta call it a night man, there's no way anything is going down this late." Mercy was starting to really like Lucio. She was dead tired, no longer accustomed to the long hours Overwatch had often required of her. She stifled a yawn and chimed in.

"I have to agree with Lucio Winston, keeping this up will lead to nothing healthy, and if I wasn't so tired I could list off the negative effects for you but-" Something caught her eye. A glint of red light against the blue white pallor of the hardlight. "What is that?"

She pointed to the moving red spark as it darted from building to building and nearly blurring speeds. Winston quickly pulled out a pair of binoculars and zoomed in on the glow. Mercy saw him smile, and a sinking feeling entered her gut.

"That, Doctor Ziegler, is our target."


End file.
